


Interludes With Jaeger Pilots

by tielan



Series: Fire And Ice: MCU Jaeger AU [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, F/M, Female Friendship, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-10
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-07-22 15:31:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7444414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maria Hill, Pepper Potts, and the questions of war, friendship, and love, in the battle against the <i>Kaiju</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 is for my [2015 Ladies' Bingo](http://tielan.dreamwidth.org/866304.html) under "Epistolary fic: Emails, letters etc", and Part 2 is for my [2016 Trope Bingo](http://tielan.dreamwidth.org/944964.html) under "Epistolary".

Most people in the Manila Shatterdome have learned to walk on by when Maria’s sitting in the mess hall after hours with a spread of papers and a tablet in front of her.

Most people.

She knows exactly who it is when he pauses by her table. Something about the way he walks, or maybe the hint of his scent in the air, or just the pheromones of unspeakably hot Jaeger pilot—

“Mind if I sit with you?” Steve Rogers looks caught between hopefulness and concern. “Just company if you’re busy and don’t want to talk.”

Maria indicates the bench across from her, retrieving one folder that’s strayed over into his space. “Modifications complete?”

“Modified, calibrated, adjusted.”

“Uhuh.” Maria glances behind Rogers, a little surprised not to find Barnes swaggering in; pilots are known for being like velcro after a Drift – very difficult to separate. “No Barnes?”

“No. He had a date.” He frowns a little as he starts unloading the plates then pauses, looking up at her. “Oh, no, we didn’t test it in the full Drift. I helped them out with the baselines of our last Drift, and they calibrated it from there. We’ll do the full test tomorrow with Buck.”

Maria regards the dishes being offloaded: stroganoff, mac and cheese, salad, a small soup with a chunk of bread, a slice of apple pie, and a chocolate pudding. “Worked up an appetite, did you?”

“Sort of.” Rogers puts the soup in front of her. “The mess staff said you’ve been here since dinner, and you barely touched your food. Eat.”

She looks from the soup to him and snorts. “Seriously? You’re _feeding_ me?”

“Since you don’t seem to be feeding yourself… Yes.”

The soup smells pretty good – potato and leek – but it’s not what Maria’s in the mood to eat right now, and she reaches for the pudding cup.

Rogers slips it out from under her hand, moving it to the bench beside him. “That’s for dessert. _After_ you’ve had your soup.”

“Who made you my mom?” But her glare bounces off him as he sits down opposite her, and his smile warms her belly and makes her pulse go pitty-pat.

Maria considers it embarrassing to have the exact same crush on Steve Rogers that millions of others do; one smile and she’s putty. Luckily, she has enough backbone not to fall into a pile of mush. All she does is roll her eyes and take the soup and the bread, and proceed to eat the dinner he brought her while continuing to sort out the scheduling for the upcoming Id-ul-Fitri celebration, when a good fifth of her workers are going to want time off to spend with their families and the scheduling program unfortunately was coded by someone who apparently believed that nobody would ever want more than ten holiday dates.

She starts on the soup – it tastes as good as it smells. And, reluctantly, Maria concedes that, yes, Rogers read her right: she needed something in her for a second wind, and soup was both nutritious and tasty.

When she points imperiously at the cup of pudding, Rogers hands it meekly over, along with a spoon.

“Thanks.”

He grins and her pulse goes pitty-pat again. “You’re welcome.”

Maria resists the urge to stick her tongue out at him, but it’s close.

* * *

From: maria.hill@ppdc.org  
To: vpotts@stark.com  
Subject: Scarlet Cypher’s Stinger Blades

Hi Pepper,

Hope things are going well. I need some help with SI Tech. We can’t find the specifications for the power input/output ratios for _Cypher’s_ Stinger blades – the online specs have some airy fairy numbers that the specs note have never been tested.

Do you know who I should talk to about getting the actual test results from the SI labs? We’re getting some readings that have the engineers scratching their heads, and I figured that you’d have an idea of who I should talk to first to try to get some answers that make sense.

sincerely,  
Maria.

ps. So...you and Stark?

* * *

From: vpotts@stark.com  
To: maria.hill@ppdc.org  
Subject: RE: Scarlet Cypher’s Stinger Blades

Hi Maria,

 _Cypher_ ’s Stingers came out of Commercial R&D – from what I’ve looked up, they were under a project which was originally started by Howard Stark himself, although Obadiah Stane took it over in the early 90s.

I’ll put you in touch with Obi’s office, although I don’t know how much help they’ll be. We’ve been having trouble getting anything out of Obi lately – Tony’s fretting, because Obi’s like family to him.

Otherwise, Ritesh Sivakumar is head of SI Jaeger Engineering and if he doesn’t know where to look for the test results then one of the senior Engineers probably will.

Things are good here. How about you? I hear I’m not the only one featured in the gossip rounds with a Jaeger pilot – or was that someone masquerading as you in the news?

sincerely,  
Pepper.

ps. Yes.

* * *

From: maria.hill@ppdc.org  
To: vpotts@stark.com  
Subject: Scarlet Cypher’s Stinger Blades

Hi Pepper,

Tried Stane’s office – no luck. I imagine his assistant is more polite to you when you call; he practically held his nose against the reek of Shatterdome while we were talking.

Engineering was a lot more helpful – we got the test results off them, but they barely match the readings we’re getting – the output’s significantly higher than it should be given conductive resistance and other engineering jargon that you don’t want to hear about.

Actually, we seem to be experiencing a spate of problems with several other Jaegers, too. Coulson said they’ve been having resistance in the pilot interface for _Thunder Strike_ , resulting in sluggish response times and issues with the Drift connection between Odinson and Laufeysson. Several others have indicated issues, too, although we’re still managing to keep the _kaiju_ at bay.

Thanks for the directions, anyway.

As to Jaeger pilots... Nothing has happened. That photo was him basically rescuing me from a Jaegerfly who decided that I was the one thing standing between her and Rogers’ true love. Ugh.

Anyway, thanks again.

sincerely,  
Maria.

* * *

Maria doesn’t join the crowds over down the end of the Manila Kwoon that’s set up for bouts and sparring matches. Instead she chooses the ‘quiet section’, set aside for people who just want to warm themselves up, or maybe have a stretch or two.

From the cheering and jeering up the other end and the vibratin of the wooden floor, there’s something going on in the arena, but she doesn’t let it distract her focus as she goes through the basic moves. She’s not here for the crowds or the show – entertaining as it can be watching the pilots spar, she just wants a chance to work out the stresses and strains of a day managing the Shatterdome floor.

But as she finishes the warm-up routine, she glimpses movement in the corner of her eye – Rogers easing a shoulder off the wall. He’s dressed in tracksuit pants and a white singlet top, both of which are standard gear for Kwoon. However, in his case, they showcase his body to distracting advantage.

“How long were you watching?”

“Only a few minutes. How’s the cheek?”

It takes her a moment to remember the bruise. “Only aches every now and then. Your groupies are vicious.”

He winces. “I’m sorry. I’d be rid of them if I could.”

“Mm,” is all Maria ventures. Because, sure, he’s sincere about the crazy and obsessive Jaegerflies – they’re the ones that all the pilots dread – but the ordinary run-of-the-mill women who want the thrill of fucking a Jaeger pilot? There aren’t too many of the guys who’ll say no to that – and the chased pilots are mostly male and the Jaegerflies are mostly female. That’s the way the world works, tawdry as it might be.

Three months ago, just before _Captain America_ was commissioned, Maria thought there might be something between them – things that indicated Steve was interested. Then Steve and Bucky got the Jaeger, went from hot property to astronomically popular, and Maria figured she got lost somewhere in the noise of getting on the frontline of the war, and the ovary-fuelled screaming of a hundred thousand women throwing themselves in his way.

She can’t help the crush she still has on him; she figures she can avoid being a dick about it.

There’s a raucous cheer down the other end of the complex, and Rogers jerks his chin at the cheers down the other end of the linked halls. “What’s going on there?”

“I haven’t looked.” Maria glances behind him, looking for his other half. “Barnes?”

“We’re not joined at the hip, you know.”

“Isn’t that kind of the definition of co-pilots?”

He shrugs, ruefully, moving seamlessly from the stretches to the warm-ups. “Maybe it is for some pilot pairings. But I’m starting to think it depends on the co-pilots and their Drift; how it’s initiated, how it’s held. Some of us need to be in close proximity to keep up our compatibility, others of us...just naturally match.”

“And you and Barnes would be the natural match?”

“It’s a theory that works as well as any other.” Rogers smiles as he heads for the rack of staves. “How else do you explain the disparity between some pilot pairings, and the similarity of others, especially given personality differences such as, say, Stark and Rhodes?”

Maria catches the staff he tosses her. “I always figured it just got handwaved as the Drift.”

“You never thought about it?”

“Not particularly.”

“Never wanted to pilot a Jaeger?”

“The PPDC has no shortage of people who want to do that,” Maria points out, “and the odds of finding someone were astronomical. So I did Jumphawk training, and ran two missions before I realised I’d be more use in Shatterdome logistics than in the field.”

It’s a matter-of-fact statement, but he seems amused by it as he takes up position on one side of the mat in silent invitation to spar. “Really?”

“Well, how about you see if your Jaeger gets fixed properly the next time you come back from a fight against the _kaiju_?”

“Not what I meant. Just... I think you’d have been an asset wherever you ended up in the PPDC.”

“Flattery won’t get you any favours in a Kwoon match, Rogers.”

Something flashes across his face before it settles to a narrow-eyed expression. “You think I need favours on the Kwoon floor, Maria?”

His mock-offence makes her smile, demure and dangerous. “Shall we find out?”

He makes the first move, and then it’s on like Donkey Kong, back and forth across the mats, dodging, ducking, dancing. They’re most definitely not Drift compatible: his style is too direct for Maria – she’s not in it to win it. Added to which, he’s strong and fast, and seriously outmatches her blow for blow. Four points is the usual call, and she loses them all. It’s nothing she didn’t expect, but being beaten so thoroughly still stings.

“Don’t mind me,” she tells him when he comes over and peers down at her after the last point where he laid her out on the floor and she didn’t bother getting up. “I’m just in recovery.”

He offers her a hand and hauls her up, waiting a moment to check she’s on her feet.

“Thanks.” Maria tells herself she sounds breathless because she just went from lying down to standing up in half a second flat, and not because she’s standing nearly chest to chest and hip to hip with Steve Rogers, and he’s looking down at her bruise very intently...

“It’s not as bad as it looks, you know,” she assures him, taking her hand back and stepping away, and telling her heart to take it easy – it’s just his usual courtesy, even if he’s still staring at her...

The clatter of high heels is a welcome distraction – nearly as welcome as the woman wearing them. “Pepper! I didn’t know you were in today.”

“Sorry, I didn’t tell you.” Pepper’s smile is swift and instant. “It’s just a flying visit to check the modifications to _Astra Lightning_. And this time, I have the tech specs for comparison. I don’t know what we’re going to do about Obi – these gaps in the testing specs just isn’t like him. Have JaegerTech worked out the issue with _Scarlet Cypher’s_ stinger blades yet?”

“No. And I can’t get them pulled, I don’t have enough weight in Vladivostok. Besides, Karpov just wants them out there fighting the good fight.” Maria scrapes her hair out of her eyes. “I’ll tell you over—Do you have time for lunch?”

“Funny,” Pepper makes her way carefully down the stairs to the mats in her stilts, “I was just about to ask _you_ that. Hello, Captain Rogers. Sorry to ignore you. No Lieutenant Barnes?”

Maria’s mouth quirks as he gives her a pained look before turning back to Pepper. “No. He’s out on a date.”

“A date? Anyone I know?”

“Uh, possibly? Darcy Lewis?”

Pepper shakes her head and glances at Maria, who explains, “PPDC PR. She’s decent.” Good at her job, friendly, not the usual Jaegerfly type. So her interest in Barnes is inexplicable.

“Ah. You can tell me over lunch, then.”

“I should wash first...” Maria indicated her sweat-stained clothing.

“You can’t smell worse than Tony when he first gets out of the drivesuit.” Pepper glances at Steve. “Right, Captain?”

“I don’t know how Stark smells when he first gets out of the drivesuit,” Steve’s mouth quirks, “but Bucky and I don’t smell too nice when we come back from patrol.”

She finds that hard to believe, but doesn’t say as much. “If you’re willing to put up with it, then we can do now. I have until 1330 hours – then there’s a meeting about _Phoenix Rising_ ’s flares.”

“Let’s do now.”

Maria glances at Steve, who’s looking a little bemused by their rapid-fire exchange. “Thanks for the bout, Rogers.”

“Anytime, Hill.” He strolls off to the other end of the Kwoon where there’s someone who might provide him with a decent fight. And yes, Maria watches him go, all golden shoulders and sculpted buttocks. She’s restrained, not blind.

“So.” Pepper steps in close, her eyes also on Rogers’ butt. “What’s happening there?”

“Hm? Oh, just a friendly bout of sparring.”

“Mm,” Pepper says. “Okay.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

To: Stark Industries R&D  
From: Pepper Potts, CEO  
Date: 15th August 2016  
Subject: Obadiah Stane Revocation of Access

To all departments, units, personnel, and contractors working for Stark Industries:

Obadiah Stane is no longer granted access or permission to access any of the systems, research, or properties belonging to or developed by Stark Industries. This exclusion has no exceptions, and any person discovered in breach of it will be immediately terminated, and charges pressed accordingly.

Pepper Potts  
CEO Stark Industries

* * *

The call is unexpected in the middle of the crisis, but not unwelcome. Maria has to put it off, though – there are just too many things to manage at the moment it comes through – but she does call back, which she wouldn’t bother for anyone else.

It’s a quiet moment after they’ve brought the pilots in, hooked up to life-support, covered with neural nets. The media has come and gone like a storm, leaving a few bothersome puddles behind in the form of journalists who are waiting to pounce on whatever technical details they can weasel out of the Jaeger crews. Luckily for the PPDC, the Jaeger will take another hour to make it to shore, hauled in by a dozen Chinooks, and Maria’s already got security working on herding the journalists out and away from the staging area where they’ll look things over. Everyone with technical experience is reviewing the last dozen repair and scan logs. Those that can’t are ready to look over the systems once _Scarlet Cypher_ is back in the Shatterdome.

Pepper picks up within three rings. “What can I do?” Maria hears the click of heels in corporate corridors and the murmur of voices before they fall silent – a door closing between Pepper and whoever she was speaking with when she took the call.

Maria blows out a hard breath. “Well, Stane’s head on a platter would feel good for all of thirty seconds, but apart from that...”

“I’m so sorry,” Pepper says. “How are the pilots?”

There’s a moment when Maria hesitates over telling Pepper. Not because she’s Pepper, but because she’s the CEO of Stark Industries – the company that developed the Stinger Technology and let it out of their labs untested. Never mind that the technology was released long before Stark handed the reins over to Pepper, there’s still the large and delicate matter of corporate liability in the face of a public disaster.

Maria can shut this down now, or she can trust.

She chooses trust.

“Serious, but stable on life-support; they have no idea if they’ll ever get out. Belova took the brunt of the damage – so far as they can tell, the overload burned her out. Romanova still has brain signals, but they’re weak. The corps are taking it hard.”

“You’re close. It would be expected.” The sigh on the other end of the line is long and weary. “Obadiah Stane has been locked out of all Stark Industries systems – for all the good it does the pilots of _Scarlet Cypher_. And there’s been no sign of him in his usual haunts so far as JARVIS can determine.”

Maria pinches the bridge of her nose and thinks that now is probably not the time ot ask about the reach of the Stark Industries AI. “He’s gone to ground. Stay out of the public eye, don’t make waves… It’s the best way to avoid what’s coming.”

“Legal action.” Pepper pauses. “Maria…you know I didn’t call you to pump you for information, don’t you?”

“I know. And it’s good to hear from you. I appreciate the call – it’s been a hellish day.”

“And it’s not done yet, I imagine.”

“Not by a long shot.” She hesitates a moment.

“Maria? What is it?”

Confessions aren’t her usual style, but this is bugging her. “I keep thinking… We were discussing the issues with the Stinger technology the other week, and I suggested we take _Scarlet Cypher_ off the front line.”

“I’m guessing there was opposition?”

“At multiple levels – from the pilots themselves, all the way up to Pierce, who decided to weigh in on the matter.” Okay, so maybe Maria’s just a little bitter about that. The last thing she expected was to be shot down by someone so high up, who had little to no knowledge of day to day operations, but all the power to override everything else. And, no, it wouldn’t have gone far with Romanova and Belova opposed, but Maria could have worked on them, if not for Pierce.

“The Secretary-General put his two cents in?”

“Yeah.”

“And overrode your recommendations?”

The disbelief in Pepper’s voice is soothing as a balm. “Yeah.”

“Okay. I think I’m going to borrow Rhodey’s vocabulary for this. What an _ass_!”

In spite of the stress of the day – or perhaps because of it – Maria starts to laugh. Or maybe it’s kind of a hysterical sob – she’s not entirely sure, but it’s undignified and seriously embarrassing. She manages to bring herself back under control after a couple of seconds, wheezing a little. “Oh, God. I’m sorry about that.”

“No apology necessary.” She can hear Pepper smiling on the other end, and feels oddly reassured that the other woman doesn’t think she’s a loon. “Like you said, it’s been a hellish day – not made any better if you’re kicking yourself about a decision that was made over your head and out of your control.”

The prim practicality does a lot to restore Maria’s equilibrium, as does the knock on the door. A glance up shows Dira gesturing to indicate that the Jaeger is on its way in and they’ll need her down on the floor very shortly. “Thanks for the call – and for understanding.”

“It’s not a problem.” Pepper says, and pauses briefly. “You have to go?”

“Getting the chops shops and the tech specs ready to go over _Cypher_ – or what remains of it.” Maria grimaces at the thought of the job ahead, at the thought of all the things she could have done to get the Jaeger sidelined and properly checked out, at the thought of the two women in the infirmary, hooked up to machines with no guarantee of _survival_ , let alone _life._

“Don’t kick yourself too hard.”

“But it’s so easy.”

“It’s also wrong. So don’t. Look after yourself.”

“Pepper? Thanks.”

“Maria.” The laugh is wry and easy. “What are friends for otherwise?”

* * *

Her main concession to it being Saturday night is to move herself to the lounge and turn on a rerun channels to watch one of the old comedy skit shows, although she turns the sound down most of the way.

The final report on the Stinger technology on Scarlet Cypher is in – a verdict of insufficient testing and safety procedures in the development of the technology, the blame of which has been largely diverted to the shoulders of Obadiah Stane, former Director of the company in charge of R&D, presently missing, presumed on a beach in a non-extradition treaty country somewhere in the Atlantic or the Indian Oceans.

Still, Stark Industries is covering their medical expenses in the now, and has paid a significant reparations sum to each pilot, as well as settling with the PPDC.

Maria skims it, then sends off a quick text to Pepper.

_Saw the reparations document. Financial overkill much?_

No sooner has she hit ‘send’ than she regrets it. Working on a weeknight? Sure. On a Saturday night, Pepper surely has better things to do than read texts from a colleague. And critical ones to boot.

A moment later, though, her phone dings with the reply. I thought it was quite reasonable. And most of it came out of Obi’s entitlements, anyway.

Maria blinks. Stane’s entitlements were _that much_?

_Still no luck finding him?_

_None. Tony’s furious, but admits he hasn’t had time for Obi since he started with the Jaeger program_

_It does tend to take up all one’s time._

_Like Saturday nights?_

_Says the woman answering work texts._

_You sent the first one. Anyway, what’s your excuse?_

_I’m a workaholic. Everyone knows. And unlike some people, I don’t have a boy toy to distract me._

_Uhuh._

Maria’s about to type _and what’s that supposed to mean,_ when there’s a knock at the door and Rogers peers in.

“Hey, this is where you got to.” He pushes the door open and steps inside, classy slacks and a collared polo shirt under a brown bomber jacket. Beyond him, Barnes is visible out in the corridor, his head tilted as though he’s chatting with someone. “You didn’t come out tonight.”

It’s not quite censure, not quite disappointment, but Maria looks down at her tablet anyway. “I had work to do.”

Barnes snorts as he comes into the room, his arm slung around Darcy Lewis’ waist, the circled star of his Jaeger sigil gleaming briefly on the shoulder patch of his jacket. “Jesus, Hill, it couldn’t wait for Sunday?”

She shrugs and doesn’t meet Steve’s eye as he sits down opposite her. “I wanted to get it done tonight.”

“You don’t know what it’s like. Sometimes the deadline demands.” Darcy pokes Barnes in the ribs before smiling at Maria. “Did you get your work done? Reports?”

“Yeah. Mostly.” Since it looks like Rogers is making himself comfortable in the chair opposite hers, she notes, “You’re back early.”

One hand drags through his hair. The movement opens the front of his bomber jacket, showing the lean lines of the chest and body beneath the shirt. Maria lets her eyes drift down then drags them back up to his face as he says, “There wasn’t much happening.”

“You mean you didn’t want any of the action out there.” Barnes waggles his eyebrows at his co-pilot, who seems unimpressed.

“Buck, get lost.”

“Hey, I’m just saying you’re in a drought right now—”

“And I’m just saying get lost.”

Both comments are made in casually affectionate tones, guys who are comfortable hanging shit on each other, and even do so to show affection.

“Your wish is my command, _mi amigo_.” Darcy squeals briefly as Barnes swings her around on his hip so they’re facing the door. “C’mon, Darce, let’s leave the stiffshirts to it.”

“Night, Maria! Night, Steve!”

Steve sighs as the door closes firmly behind them. “Another reason I wanted to come back – they make me feel third wheel.”

Maria bites back the retort that surely the answer to that is for him to pick someone up while out. There’d be no shortage of women who’d jump at the opportunity to sleep with Steve Rogers, co-pilot for _Captain America_ – including her – which makes Barnes’ comment about a ‘drought’ weird. But she’s not going to think about that. “So it’s a serious relationhip?”

“Considering he’s taking her back to our rooms, yeah.” Steve catches her questioning look and his mouth twists ruefully. “We made a deal back when we started sharing – no Jaegerflies in our quarters.”

“And the distinction between Jaegerfly and...whatever Darcy is...?”

“Personally, I’m calling it ‘girlfriend’.” He leans forward, elbows on knees. “What else is there? Partner?”

“Well, _you’d_ be Barnes’ partner, so...”

The smile softens, turning her insides warm. “I guess that’s the inadequacies of the English language. But yeah, he’s serious.” There’s a moment when he looks wistful, before he clears his expression and indicates the tablet. “What was so important you couldn’t leave it until tomorrow?”

“Just stuff.”

“Classified?”

“No.” After a moment she answers the unspoken question. “It’s the salvage reports on Scarlet Cypher – they’re looking at pulling her apart and using her for spares.”

“And this needed to be done on a Saturday night?” His frown is intense, and a little...irritated. “You’ve been driving yourself too hard ever since Scarlet Cypher went down.”

“Everyone has.”

“But not to the point where they’re working Saturday nights.”

There’s an implicit question in the statement, an invitation, and at one level, Maria knows she shouldn’t engage. But she’s been gnawing at this for a while now. “They didn’t know something was wrong.”

“And you did?” He looks at her, seriously. “You tried to get them taken off the active roster. Both the higher-ups and the pilots resisted. The Stinger technology had worked reliably enough before – you had no way of knowing the power transformers would redline, or that the feedback would jump systems into the PONS – unless you did?”

“No.”

“So, then…why blame yourself for what happened when you couldn’t have stopped it?”

“Blame doesn’t have to be reasonable.”

“Maybe not. But it doesn’t have to be stupid either.”

Maria winces, and he looks a little uncomfortable when he realises what he’s said. And it stings, never mind that Pepper’s already told her so, and others have reinforced it – Phil, Melinda, and Fury, to say nothing of Jasper, Carol and Dira and Jess and plenty of others. But this is Steve Rogers criticising her for feeling responsible for something that, okay, she knows she couldn’t have stopped, but which she feels like she should have seen earlier.

The moment’s become awkward. She goes for a change of topic and switches the focus.

“How are you doing, after _Scarlet Cypher_?”

“Me?”

“You and Romanova were…friends.”

“It’s…rough. Even piloting, fighting the _kaiju_ , you don’t always realise how…thin the line is between life and death. All we have is the now.” He shifts a little, studying her expression. “When you said ‘friends’ did you mean ‘lovers’?”

“I left it open.”

“We were just friends.”

“Okay.” It’s no skin off her back either way. Yes, she gnawed a little bit of liver the first time she saw them chatting, Romanova leaning against Scarlet Cypher’s foot while Rogers grinned at something she’d said while Barnes exchanged words with one of the floor crews. The two had been seen hanging out together enough that there’d been gossip and fanfiction – the inevitable subculture of something as high-profile as saving the world.

“Really,” Rogers looks uncomfortable. “We’re just friends.”

Maria blinks at the insistence. “I don’t need convincing.”

He glances away, embarrassed before his gaze turns back. “Have you spoken with Ms. Potts recently?”

“Yes.”

“You’re pretty close, right.”

“We’re friends.” She smiles, wryly, anticipating the next question. “Not lovers either.”

“Not your type?”

“It’s probably more correct to say that I’m not hers.” She laughs at his expression. “It’s called bisexual, Rogers. I can find both men and women attractive.”

“Ah.” He shifts again, like he’s a little nervous. “Do you... Do you have a preference?”

Maria doesn’t sigh. She figures she opened herself up to the questions when she mentioned her sexuality. The Marriage Equality Act went through three years ago, and while it still regularly gets challenged in the Supreme Court by people who think the moral decline of society is the reason for the _kaiju_ , there’re still gaps in general knowledge regarding anything beyond gay and straight; plus typical prejudice against those for whom the pool of sexual eligibility is all humanity. And it’s not exactly comfortable to be quizzed on this by Steve Rogers.

“Well,” she says, perhaps a little more asperity than she should, “it helps when they’re interested in me.”

“Really? Because that hasn’t helped me.”

She starts to smile, then actually hears what he’s said.

There’s a rueful twist to his mouth, and his gaze drops. “Sorry. I shouldn’t—I’m not...bitter,” he says it in a rush. “But I just— You seemed interested before we got the Jaeger, but when we got back from Hong Kong, you’d cooled off. And we were so busy learning to pilot the Jaeger, that I didn’t push it but—” Blue eyes look up at her. “Lately, I’ve been wondering if it was something I did or said. Or if it was...something else. Like me.”

“Yes.” Maria’s tongue feels clumsy in her mouth, and she curls her fingers in her lap. “You— It was— You and Bucky were already popular before you became pilots. Once you had the Jaeger, you could have anyone. And I’m not—”

“Not a Jaegerfly?”

It comes out in a rush. “Not interesting.” Her cheeks heat up as she realises what she’s said, as she realises he’s staring at her. Well, that’s one way to humiliate herself – put her insecure ego out for display.

“Not interesting? Seriously? That’s what you think?” Then he sees her expression. “Maria—”

She doesn’t want his pity. “Look, it was— I didn’t expect anything from you—it was a...a nice flirtation...”

“It wasn’t a ‘nice flirtation’.” Steve’s voice is flat. “It wasn’t a _flirtation_ at all. I liked you. I _still_ like you. And if I was in it for a quick fuck, I’d have gone with a Jaegerfly a long time ago. But I...” He looks away, his expression pained. “I get it if you’re not—if you don’t want to—if I’m too much of a risk, or if you’re not interested. But I’d still...I’d still like to be friends.” The glance that darts at her is resolute, even if it’s uncomfortable. “I swear I can be a decent human being. If I cross your lines then you can tell me to back off, and I will...”

It occurs to Maria that there are things she probably should say at this point. The problem is that she can’t think of anything right now. Her brain is stuck on repeat of, _I still like you._ And this is the Shatterdome, the PPDC Jaeger-corps, _not_ high school and—

She takes a deep breath. And another.

And then thinks, _To hell with it._

Maria’s always been better at actions than words.

Steve looks a little apprehensive as she comes around the coffee table, and there’s a moment when her courage nearly fails her. Then understanding dawns, and he lifts a hand to take hers and draws her down onto his lap. Maria catches her breath - he’s either seriously built, or already half-hard. She presses down.

“I—” He shifts a little beneath her, a little twitch of his hips that makes her shiver with the rough, raw promise of what’s beneath. “Maria—“

“You’re sporting _this_ , and you just want to be friends?”

“I swear it’s not—” Breath hisses out between his lips. “Bucky and Darcy are—the Drift—I’m just a little— _Fuck—_ ”

Maria smirks at the expletive, and deliberately shifts on him again. “Oh, this isn’t _little_ , Rogers.”

He shudders, and his hands flexing on her waist as his whole body tenses. “Maria, if you’re just—I want—long-term. A relationship.”

“And here I thought I’d ride you like a pony for one night and kick you out in the morning.” At his startled look, she rolls her eyes. “You have some weird ideas about me, Rogers.”

“Maybe you can re-educate me,” he murmurs, and his hand cups her nape, drawing her down to him until their mouths meet.

Maria thinks of kissing guys as a prelude to fucking them. Kissing Steve is more like kissing the women she’s known – a tease, a taste, an exploration. He kisses with long slow sweeps of his tongue, like a tide, soft and deceptively strong. And Maria finds herself drowning in the taste and feel and scent of him, the soft grunt of encouragement he gives when she shifts on his groin, the flush of his cheeks when she slips her hand into his shirt to feel his heart pounding against her palm.

It damn well should. Her body feels buzzed as he draws back. “What...?”

He nips at her throat, smiling up at her through long golden-brown lashes. “I don’t want an audience.”

Maria hears the slight click of the door as someone closes it, and tenses. She forgot that the door wasn’t locked, and hadn’t thought to listen— What the hell had she been _thinking—_? She starts to climb off him, but h is grip on her hips tightens.

“Maria—” His mouth finds hers again, and if he thinks he can seduce her into— Oh, _God—_

She drags herself away. “Not here. I’m not going to make a public spectacle of myself.”

“I—Can we go to your room? Mine’s occupied – unless you want to share it with—”

“Oh, God, no.” Maria tries to climb off his lap again, only to be held down again. “Steve—I’m not goinnnng—”

This time, she’s not just buzzed but panting when she finally drags her mouth away from his.

“If you have a thing for sex in public,” she mutters, “then this relationship isn’t going to go very far.”

Steve’s grin is slow and nearly indecent. “I leave the exhibitionism to Bucky,” he says, his fingers brushing down the buttons of her PPDC-issue shirt. “Intimacy is for private.”

Maria sets her shoulders, making a decision. It has the side effect of nudging her breast against his knuckles. “Then we’d better go somewhere private.”

But before he lets her up, he kisses her again, and puts a question mark on his statement by palming her breast before breaking off and letting her up.

* * *

From: vpotts@stark.com  
To: maria.hill@ppdc.org  
Subject: and in today’s gossip column about the love lives of Jaeger pilots...

I hear your panties are on fire. 

* * *

From: maria.hill@ppdc.org  
To: vpotts@stark.com  
Subject: RE: and in today’s gossip column about the love lives of Jaeger pilots... 

Shut up. I hate you.


End file.
